


Laundry Day

by Demixian, JohnlockRabbit



Category: The Book of Mormon - Parker/Stone/Lopez
Genre: Epic, F/M, Fluff, Long, M/M, Multi, Multi Chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-02
Updated: 2016-01-02
Packaged: 2018-05-11 00:21:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5606536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Demixian/pseuds/Demixian, https://archiveofourown.org/users/JohnlockRabbit/pseuds/JohnlockRabbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's laundry day at District 9, and everybody's relishing in the aftermath of their expulsion from the church. Follow Kevin Price, Connor McKinley and Nabulungi Hatimbi as they go about their day, trying to live their lives in Uganda.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Laundry Day

**Author's Note:**

> This is a collaboration fic between me and JohnLockRabbit (laurens-john on tumblr) that we've been excited to post! We hope you enjoy! More chapters to come!

Elder Kevin Price likes to believe that he’s never tardy — furthermore, he likes to believe that he is always early. However, this is not the case.

 

“Oh, gosh darn it,” Kevin mutters, clumsily scampering out of the slight discomfort of his canvas bed and clambering into his clothes. It’s his last clean set, but luckily it’s laundry day today, which means somebody will have the immense honour of heaving a pile of sweat-soaked clothes down to the laundromat. That poor soul is usually either Elder McKinley or Elder Neeley. Kevin would offer to help, but…well, actually, he wouldn’t. Besides, Neeley and McKinley seemed to be able to bear through the ordeal well enough. Why interrupt their good work?

 

“Morning, Elder Price,” Elder Thomas greets him as Kevin groggily stumbles into the kitchen.

 

“Mm,” Kevin grunts in reply, giving a weak smile. He rubs his eyes, blinking forcefully to clean the gunk left over from a rough night out of them. The smell of breakfast-yet-to-come is potent in the air, and Kevin wonders if they’re going to have burnt toast for the third day in a row. He’s sure that Elder Thomas and Elder McKinley know how to cook, but for whatever reason, every breakfast they’ve had since they came here has been charred bread.

 

“Is Elder Cunningham awake yet?” Elder McKinley asks, slicing the stale loaf of wholemeal bread (which is almost finished, even though they started it only a day ago).

 

“Um, I didn’t see him back in our room, so I guess,” Kevin replies, taking a seat at the counter. “Didn’t you guys see him?”

 

“I think he went out with Nabulungi about an hour ago. They’re going to the market or something,” Elder Thomas says, sipping a glass of pulpy orange juice. Kevin nods, not really that bothered by it. If his best friend wants to run off with his girlfriend in the wee hours of the morning to go to the market (which is over an hour’s walk away), then so be it. He just hopes that Arnold will return in time for them to do all the awesome things they had planned.

 

“How come you’re so late waking up?” Elder McKinley asks, looking up from his bread butchering. Kevin guiltily looks down at his socks, remembering his embarrassing tardiness. _Half an hour late…geez, Kevin. You’ve only been a pagan for twelve hours and you’re already breaking your own rules._

 

“Yeah, I seem to remember it was Elder Church and Elder Neeley that drank that entire keg of beer last night, and you declined their generous offers. It makes sense that they’d be sleeping so long, but what about you?” Elder Thomas recounts, taking another sip of his juice rather pointedly.

 

“Hey, it’s not my fault old habits die hard. Besides, there’s nothing in the Book of Arnold that says you can just chug alcohol a night before a work day,” Kevin retorts, grimacing as a piece of stale, brown bread flops onto his plate. He looks up, and McKinley gives an apologetic look.

 

“Sorry, I’m afraid it’s toast again.”

 

“Awesome,” Kevin says, restraining the urge to drawl with sarcasm. He stuffs the slice into the toaster besides him with all the passion of a betrayed lover, pressing the carriage lever down to turn it on.

 

“So…” Elder McKinley says, evidently sensing the tenseness of the silence that followed the announcement of his breakfast solution. “What are you and Elder Cunningham planning? After all that celebration and talk of the days to come, I would think you two’d be inseparable, going off on wild adventures, teaching the world about Arnoldism…or, whatever this religion is called.”

 

“I mean…” Kevin begins, trailing off as he lets his thoughts organize themselves. “I mean…we’re not even sure if this religion is monotheistic, or polytheistic, or atheistic. I mean, the actual Book of Arnold is a mess, and we were gonna clean it up and order it some more today but…well, I guess I can occupy myself otherwise.”

 

“You could hang out with us!” Elder Thomas says enthusiastically. “Me and Elder McKinley are planning to go down to the laundromat, then we’re helping Kimbe out with her kids, and then…”

 

“I’m sure Elder Price would rather not have to handle dirty laundry on only his third day in Uganda, Poptarts,” Elder McKinley cuts in, glaring rather pointedly at the young man.

 

“I’m probably just gonna take a long walk. I need to get some fresh air in my lungs, the dust from this place is suffocating me,” Kevin replies, coughing for added effect. He quickly regrets this as he sees McKinley’s rather offended expression, and he quickly covers his tracks. “I mean, I don’t know if it’s dust or just allergies or whatever. I just need some fresh air.”

 

The toast decides to pop up just at this moment, startling all three of them. When Kevin doesn’t take it out, Elder Thomas asks

 

“…You gonna eat that?”

 

“I’m okay, actually,” Kevin replies, getting up. “I’ll just get something at the Kafe. Not coffee, though. I’m still feeling kinda sick from all those black double espressos from last night. Oof.” Kevin hastily makes for the door, carefully stepping over the unconscious, half-naked body of Elder Neeley (which is tastefully topped off with a lampshade over his head). He slips outside, inhaling the warm, dry, dusty air. It’s not a whole lot better than inside, but at least it doesn’t smell of icing and beer.

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

“So…” Chris says as he takes a bite of his classic strawberry poptart, “What do you think you’re going to do now?”

 

Elder Connor McKinley, who is staring dully into the fridge, and has been for the last ten minutes, turns to look at his mission companion in confusion.

 

“You know,” Chris prompts, his mouth full thus muffling him considerably, “Now you’re supposedly ‘letting all your feelings out’.” He grins cheekily as he notices Connor’s cheeks flush red.

 

“I never said anything about that!” Connor retorts indignantly.

 

“Con, you were singing and dancing. The entire town heard you say it.”

 

Connor blushes even harder and slams the fridge door shut. For his entire life, he’s lived inside an iron-clad closet, and now he has the chance to come out, and yet he can’t help but wonder: does he really want to?

 

“C’mon, buddy.” Chris says, his tone softening a little, “You can be yourself now, haven’t you always wanted this?”

 

“Well… yeah, I guess but-”

 

“But what?”

 

“But it’s still illegal, y’know? I could go to jail.” Connor tries to stay calm, carefully pouring himself a cup of decaf coffee.

 

“Oh my gosh, Con, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.” Chris swallows, his eyes widening, “So, I guess you’ve got to stay in the closet. then?”

 

“Yeah, I suppose so, I don’t really want to break the law whilst I’m out here.”

 

“Look, Con, just because some people don’t like it doesn’t mean-”

 

“Can we just drop this? Please?” Talking about being sent to jail isn’t exactly a topic Connor wants to have over breakfast, besides, there isn’t anything he can do about his situation, he may as well just grin and bear it.

 

“Um, sure.” Chris shoves the remains of his poptart into his mouth and wipes his sticky hands on the curtains

 

“Chris, you have to stop doing that.”

 

“Doing what?” Innocently, Chris smiles, his hands still wrapped up in the curtains.

 

“Wiping your hands sticky on things that don’t belong to you. Like, I don’t know, my bed? My clothes? Stray dogs?” Connor teases, as he reaches for a knife and heads back towards the fridge for a loaf of bread.

 

“It’s fine, it’s laundry day anyway. At least I don’t take my pants off after half a can of beer.”

 

The two boys look down at a heavily inebriated (and unconscious) Elder Neeley, who is snoring happily on the floor, wearing only a lampshade and temple garments.

 

“Do you think he’ll wake up soon?” Connor asks as Chris pokes Neeley tentatively with his foot.

 

“Probably.”

 

“Maybe I should make him some breakfast for when he wakes up?”

 

“ _If_ he wakes up.”

 

“What about Elder Price, isn’t he awake yet?” Connor asks, his face apparently displaying more concern than would have been necessary.

 

“Elder Price?” — Chris smiles knowingly — “Why do you care?”

 

“I’m his District Leader, Chris, why shouldn’t I care?”

 

Chris wiggles his eyebrows and reaches for another poptart, and he unwraps the pastry before he shoves the whole thing into his mouth.

 

“What does that mean? What are you doing?”

 

As he gives a large, sticky grin, Chris clasps his hands together in an impression of his friend:

 

“Oh, Elder Price, you’re so handsome and beautiful! I just want to kiss you, but I can’t so instead I’m just going to stare at you longingly because I have a big fat massive cru-” He’s cut of as Connor elbows him, causing him to choke for a second on his food.

 

“Come on, I’m not that bad,” Connor laughs, clapping his friend on the back.

 

A door creaks somewhere in the house, silencing them. Far off footsteps are heading slowly towards them, the shuffling sound getting closer and closer. Chris giggles and Connor shoves him, continuing to stare at the door in earnest.

 

“Here he comes,” Chris mutters, “The Hottest Man in the World.”

 

Connor sighs and begins slicing the bread, his cheeks tinted with a light, bright red. They only get redder as the door creaks open and a very disheveled Elder Price steps into the kitchen.

 

“Morning, Elder Price!” Chris can hardly contain his laughter as he greets the young man, but Elder Price doesn’t even seem to notice.

 

Connor smiles softly at the man’s grumbled response — he really has chosen to fall in love with an absolute jerk.

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

It’s an idyllic scene. The hot sun soaks the sandy ground with a golden glow, birds chirp imperfectly in the dead treetops, tumbleweeds gracefully roll along the ground and two young lovers stand at the beginning of a long, complicated path.

 

“Do you have the map, Elder Cunningham?” Nabulungi Hatimbi asks the squat young bespectacled man besides her.

 

“Yeah,” he says, grinning. He produces a crudely-drawn but seemingly comprehensive map from his pocket and presents it to her.

 

“Excellent. And do you have all our other supplies? What about the water? We must bring a lot of water, Elder Cunningham. The market is a very long way away, and even autumn in Uganda can be very hot.”

 

“Duh, of course! We have plenty of water,” Elder Cunningham assures her, patting a lump in the woven basket in his other hand.

 

“Good. Well, if we’re completely ready…”

 

“Yup! I think we’re good.”

 

“One more thing—“

 

“I can’t wait to go to the market with you! I bet it’ll be so awesome! There’s gonna be stalls and jesters and music and—”

 

“Elder Cunningham,” Nabulungi interjects, placing a small hand on Elder Cunningham’s shoulder.

 

“Yeah, Baba Yaga?” Elder Cunningham replies, giving her his full attention again.

 

“I—what? Ahem. Last time I went to the market, I got lost, and I was chased for a long time by scorpions, and I was almost attacked by a lioness at one point,” she says, a sincere look on her face.

 

“Aww, it’s okay. I’m here with you this time,” Elder Cunningham says, giving Nabulungi an empathetic look. His hand brushes hers for a moment, and both of take a second to glance at their appendages and their close proximity to each other before returning to the conversation.

 

“I, um, no, what I’m trying to say is that it is very _dangerous_ out there. There are many confusing paths that collide with ours, and my father doesn’t let me go out too much so I still haven’t remembered which ones are right. We must be very cautious, and be prepared.”

 

“Oh,” Elder Cunningham says, gulping audibly. He quickly puts on a big, cheesy grin and swiftly adds “Well, we can’t let a little danger get us down, huh?”

 

“All I’m saying is—“ Nabulungi begins, staring furtively at the boy.

 

“ _Huh_?” Elder Cunningham presses, raising his eyebrows. Nabulungi’s face flushes (though it is not visible due to her skin tone, thank goodness) and she giggles girlishly.

 

“Okay, okay, you’re right,” she replies, laughing. “But promise me you’ll be careful?”

 

“Of course!”Elder Cunningham reassures her, patting her on the arm. “I’ll protect you from anything that might try to hurt you. Don’t worry, I am here for you.”

 

Nabulungi feels her chest flutter slightly, Elder Cunningham’s words sinking in. They’d exchanged kind words before, but never something that verged on the edge of romantic. She’d only heard these words said by Elder Cunningham to Elder Price, but they were best friends. She doesn’t know how long they’d know each other, but she’s only known Elder Cunningham for three days. Still, she can’t help but hope that, perhaps, this is the gateway to something bigger…


End file.
